Lord Thorin, I Presume?
by Fastslayne
Summary: Several years after the fall of Erebor, Thorin and his people have arrived in the town of Fornost at the foot of the Blue Mountains. It is the principle town in the region of Ellesar Vineyards, known for providing the best wine in all of Middle Earth. There, he and the members of his clan begin to build a new life, but peace is hard to come by once Thorin meets Miss Anna Sinclair


"Did you hear that? Anna? Anna, pay attention!"

Her accidental daydreaming disrupted, Anna guiltily shifted her focus over to her two companions. They both stared back at her, then looked at each other with knowing glances. _Caught again,_ she thought.

"Hear what? I didn't hear anything."

"Probably not for the last fifteen minutes, at least…" began Corwena, her soft brown eyes clouded with irritation. She had been detailing, at great length, the new fabric and cut of a gown she had recently purchased, and was clearly hurt that Anna hadn't heard a word. "Honestly, Anna, sometimes I wonder why we bother with you."

"Shh!"Alice abruptly shushed her. "_Listen, both of you!"_ she whispered.

Anna strained her ears, but heard only the soft sound of a slight breeze through the trees overhead. She kept quiet for several seconds, and was about to say, yet again, that she didn't hear anything, when a faint clang pierced the quiet, followed quickly by another. _Clang, clang, clang, crash, grunt_.

"What is that?" asked Corwena.

"Swords," Alice answered instantly. "Someone is practicing swordplay."

"Are you sure?" Corwena frowned. "Whyever would anyone practice in the middle of the woods, instead of in a proper training yard?"

Alice leaned in conspiratorially. "Perhaps because they don't _have_ a training yard. And perhaps it's not training; perhaps it's a real sword fight! Perhaps it's outlaws!"

Anna sighed. Alice always had the most lurid imagination; outlaws or trolls or goblins, she was always determined to make real life far more interesting that it actually was. "Or perhaps it's not swords at all."

"No, I'm sure of it" said Alice. "My brothers are always swinging at each other with this blade or that. It's terribly rotten of them, and Mother swears it tears her nerves to pieces, but trust me, I _know_ the sound of swords when I hear it."

Corwena glanced around nervously. "Well, sword fight or no, we should keep walking. We're going to be late to our visit with Mrs. Boffin."

"Oh bother Mrs. Boffin! She's only going to drone on and on about how privileged young ladies of Fornost should act. Anna won't hear a word she says, anyways."

"But _I _ need to listen to her." Corwena looked at both of them, her pretty, plump face surprisingly stern. "Mrs. Boffin knows everything about everyone in Fornost and the whole of Ellessan Vineyards to boot, including the names and positions of all the eligible young men. I don't intend to let another year go by without catching a husband."

"Well you can jolly well visit her yourself, then. Anna and I are going to investigate these outlaws." With that, Alice grabbed hold of Anna's hand and began dragging her off the road and into the forest.

Corwena stood alone on the path for a moment, before shrieking "Wait for me!" and tromping after her friends.

The trio did not have an easy time picking their way through the woods. The road they had been walking on was a major thoroughfare, used by carts and horses and people alike, and thus was very smooth and clear of overhanging branches or troublesomes roots. But the forest surround the road was dense, the trees practically growing on top of each other, and filled with ferns and other undergrowth. However, the sound of swordplay grew steadily louder as they trudged onward. Corwena complained several times that the hem of her dress was being torn apart, and indeed each of the three girls was rather unkempt by the time Alice suddenly halted them. "There's a clearing up ahead," she whispered.

As silently as possible (though perhaps not as quietly as they imagined), they crept closer, until only one layer of trees and vines hid them from view of the large, open clearing. The clangs and crashes were terribly loud now, and they heard the grunts and heavy breathing of several different men. Carefully, they each parted the lowest branches of the trees, and peered out.

Corwena let out a little yelp, and Anna was barely able to contain her own gasp before letting the branches fall back into place.

In the clearing were at least ten men, standing in a semi circle while two of their lot battled fiercely in the middle. But these were not like any men the girls had ever seen. For one, they all had beards and an abundance of long hair, whereas the men of Fornost were clean shaven and kept their locks closely shorn. Secondly, these men were rather short, many of them shorter than the girls themselves. And third, they were are all terribly broad of build, possessed of thick bulging arms and powerful shoulders; which, consequently, the girls could see in vivid detail, as none of them wore anything to cover their chests. The day was warm, and clearly the men had decided to eschew their shirts while they fought.

"Dwarfs," whispered Anna. "It's a clan of Dwarfs."

"Where are their _clothes?" _Corwena whimpered the question and kept her eyes squeezed shut.

Alice, on the other hand, was leaning eagerly forward to get a better glimpse. "Does it matter? It's _Dwarfs_, Wena! Haven't you ever seen a shirtless man before?"

Anna cast Alice a sidelong glance. "Your brothers don't count; they're just boys. And besides, these aren't _men_."

Alice gave her a cheeky wink. "They look pretty male to me. Especially the younger two on the sides, and that one fighting in the middle. Do you see him, with the dark hair? Just look at his chest."

Anna couldn't help herself. She parted the branches again and peered out. And caught her breath. Her quick peek a moment ago had not given her anything but a vague impression of skin and hair and large, bulky bodies. But now she let her gaze linger, and found she could not tear her eyes away from the male in the middle. She had never seen a dwarf before, but surely this one was a prime specimen of his race. His thick, dark hair streamed down his back and over large, sculpted shoulders that rippled with every faint and slash of his sword. His chest was magnificent, as broad and sculpted as his shoulders, tapering down into a narrow waist ribbed with sinewy muscles. Most of the other dwarfs were thick through their middles, but not this one. This one had a body that was surely sculpted from the same mountain stone from which the father of all dwarfs was said to have sprung.

Anna strained her eyes, but could not get a good glimpse of his face. She had an impression of bold cheekbones and a strong jaw, but could make out no more than that. It did not matter. Watching his gleaming body twist and move with every thrust and parry was mesmerizing enough. Anna had never been one to swoon over young men; she was far too sensible for that, and saved such flutterings for Alice and Corwena. But this man, this dwarf, had her struck dumb.

Sturck so dumb, in fact, that she did not notice that two of the dwarf company had quietly slunk out of the clearing. She was transfixed, as was Alice; even Corwena had turned to watch the battle again. _Clang, clang, clash, clang, clash clash, CLASH. _In one swift moment, the magnificent dwarf with the long dark hair had overcome his opponent, twisting slightly to avoid a thrust and crashing his sword down on the other dwarf as he lost his balance. His opponent hit the ground with a thud as the rest of the dwarf men cheered and jested, slapping each other on the back.

Anna felt strangely exhilarated, as if she had been the victor of the fight herself. She turned to whisper excitedly to her friends, but the words died on her lips. A dwarf with a bald head covered in strange tattoos had a knife to Alice's back; his other hand was fisted in Corwena's hair, pulling her head harshly to the side. It was then that she noticed the ghost of a touch at her throat; a blade was held there, just barely touching her skin. A soft voice spoke right into her ear.

"Don't move, lassie."


End file.
